The Adventures of Kathlyn eBook

It was a strange tale of misplaced loyalty and gratitude,
but it was peculiarly oriental. And when they
learned that Umballa was hidden in his own house and
the king in a hut outside the city, they knew that
God was just, whatever His prophet’s name might
be. Before he died the majordomo explained the
method of entering the secret chamber.

The quail and pheasant, the fruits and wine remained
untouched. The hall became deserted almost immediately.
To the king, first; to the king! Then Umballa
should pay his debt.

They found the poor king in the hut, in a pitiable
condition. He laughed and babbled and smiled
and wept as they led him away. But in the secret
chamber which was to have held Umballa there was no
living thing.

For Umballa had, at the departure of the majordomo,
conceived a plan for rehabilitation so wide in its
ramifications, so powerful and whelming, that nothing
could stay it; once it was set in motion. The
priests, the real rulers of Asia; the wise and patient
gurus, who held the most compelling of all scepters,
superstition! Double fool that he had been,
not to have thought of this before! He knew that
they hated Ramabai, who in religion was an outcast
and a pariah, who worshiped but a single God whom
none had ever seen, of whom no idol had been carved
and set up in a temple.

Superstition!

Umballa threw off his robes and donned his candy seller’s
tatters, left the house without being questioned by
the careless guard, and sought the chief temple.

Superstition!

To cow the populace, to bring the troops to the mark,
with threats of curses, famine, plague, eternal damnation!
Superstition! And this is why Ramabai and his
followers found an empty chamber.

CHAPTER XXII

BEHIND THE CURTAINS

In the rear of the temple Umballa sought was a small
chamber that was used by the priests, when they desired
to rest or converse privately, which was often.
The burning temple lamps of brass emphasized the
darkness of the room rather than dispelled it.
A shadow occasionally flickered through the amber
haze—­an exploring bat. A dozen or
more priests stood in one of the dim corners, from
which their own especial idol winked at them with
eyes like coals blown upon. The Krishna of the
Ruby Eyes, an idol known far and wide but seen by few.

In the temple itself there was a handful of tardy
worshipers. The heat of the candles, the smell
of the eternal lotus flower and smoking incense sticks
made even the huge vault stifling. Many of the
idols were bejeweled or patched with beaten gold leaf,
and many had been coveted by wandering white men,
who, when their endeavor became known, disappeared
mysteriously and were never more known in the haunts
of men.